


Only When Spoken To

by CaptainWeasley



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Begging, Consensual Kink, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Jake smiles a lot when he's subbing, Pegging, Praise Kink, Verbal Humiliation, this is really just a verbal scene with smut, you know I'm right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 14:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14672817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainWeasley/pseuds/CaptainWeasley
Summary: Amy is now a sergeant and Jake is definitely into it. Inspired by "You're so mean, do it more!"





	Only When Spoken To

The sight of Amy in front of him, hands on her hips, wearing her sergeant's uniform, is certainly something. Jake smiles at her, and she returns his smile. 

"You ready?" 

Amy's voice is trembling a little. Jake suspects she is both nervous and excited, just like him. He bites his lip. 

"Yeah. You?" 

Amy nods, runs a hand over her immaculate ponytail, then puts the hand back on her hip. She swallows, then the smile is gone, replaced by a stern frown. 

"Peralta, I am very disappointed in you," she says, and that tone alone sends shivers through Jake's entire body. "What have you got to say for yourself?" 

"I'm sorry, sergeant," Jake replies, trying to keep his eyes downcast. Amy is so beautiful, it's hard to keep himself from glancing at her face every now and then. 

"You are a disgrace for the whole precinct, nay, for the entirety of the NYPD." 

Jake is sure that she learned her whole speech by heart beforehand, and he loves her for it, more than he could ever put into words. He has to remember to ask her if he can take a look at her notes when they're done. 

"Do you know why you're the worst police officer who ever walked this Earth, or do I have to spell it out for you?" 

That sentence does hurt his pride a bit, but it also makes Jake's cock twitch noticeably. He's long since given up on trying to find a reasonable explanation for this kink, and now is not the time to find any answers. Now is the time to just enjoy it. 

"I don't know, sergeant." 

He looks at her with his biggest puppy-dog eyes, curious to see how she'll react to that. Amy swallows, expression softening for a moment, then her frown deepens again. 

"Did I say you were allowed to look me in the eyes? Did I, Peralta?" 

Jake dutifully casts his eyes downwards. 

"No, sergeant." 

"So, you are insolent as well," she says, and clicks her tongue. "You are under my command, you follow my orders, is that understood, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

"You are not allowed to do anything without my express permission. You may look at my face only when I say so. You may speak only when spoken to. Understood?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

Amy sighs dramatically. 

"Well, maybe there is hope for you yet... But you will have to do a lot more to convince me." Jake wants to ask, _Like what?_ , but he bites his lip. Amy just said he wasn't allowed to speak unless spoken to, and he's pretty sure that her last sentence doesn't count as spoken to. 

"Where were we?" 

Amy leaves a pause, probably to tempt him into speaking, but Jake is pretty sure rhetorical questions also don't count. He's determined to be good for her, even though it takes a lot of self-control not to speak. He's already getting hard under his uniform, and he wonders why they ever thought it was a good idea to start the scene fully clothed. 

"Ah yes, you being a disgrace to the entire NYPD. Are you sure you can't think of a single reason why that might be, Peralta?" 

"No, sergeant. Please tell me." 

"It's because you're boring, Peralta. Plain and simple. You are too boring to be a police officer." 

Jake almost laughs, and bites his tongue so hard it hurts. He'd wanted Amy's words to surprise him, but maybe they should have talked about this in more detail. 

"Something funny, Peralta?" 

Damn, Amy knows him too well. 

"N-no, sergeant," he chokes out, still trying not to laugh. 

"Am I doing it wrong?" 

That's Amy's own voice, breaking character, and Jake takes that as permission to look at her. 

"Ames, you're doing great," he assures her. "It's just... _Boring_ isn't really the worst of insults, is it?" 

And then they're both laughing, even though Jake can tell Amy's clearly unhappy that she didn't get everything perfectly right. 

"I wanted to start small, you know? Boring worked for you on Halloween." 

Jake looks at her earnestly. 

"I know. I'm sorry I laughed." 

"What would you like me to say?" 

Jake thinks for a moment. 

"Just say that I'm really bad at my job. That I let every perp get away or something." 

They'll have to come up with something better for the future, Jake thinks, but for now it'll have to do. 

"Okay," Amy says, and Jake knows her well enough to know what that deep breath means. 

"Really, Ames, you're doing great. Believe me." 

He winks at her, making her smile. 

"Thanks, Jake." 

She puts her hands back on her hips, drawing herself up, and Jake takes that as his cue to look down again. 

"Peralta, repeat the rules back to me. I want to make sure you remember them." 

Jake's spine tingles at the command. 

"I follow your orders, sergeant, and only do what you tell me to do. I must only speak when spoken to. I'm allowed to look at your face when you give me permission." 

"You did not memorize my exact words, but at least you remembered the gist of the rules." 

That tone is what really gets Jake, the way she says it, almost disdainfully. 

"We will practice. I will tell you a rule and you will repeat it five times. Understood?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

"Repeat after me: _I am under your command, I follow your orders_." 

Jake is definitely regretting wearing his uniform now, but after all, he's not supposed to be comfortable. That's the entire point. 

"I am under your command, I follow your orders. I am under your command, I follow your orders. I am—" 

"Slowly," Amy instructs. "Speak clearly and precicely." 

"I am under your command, I follow your orders." 

"Better. Two more times, Peralta." 

"I am under your command, I follow your orders. I am under your command, I follow your orders." 

"Second rule: _I am not allowed to do anything without your express permission_. Repeat." 

"I am not allowed to do anything without your express permission." 

He repeats the phrase, and this time, Amy doesn't stop him. Jake hopes he's doing it right, he wants to be good for her, he wants her to be proud. 

"Third rule: _I may look at your face only when you say so_. Repeat." 

Jake is tempted, so tempted, to break this rule right then and there, but he forces himself to keep looking down. 

"I may look at your face only when you say so." 

He says it five times, and can't help but wonder whether he actually told Amy that he wants her—needs her—to tell him when he's doing good. He probably didn't. Jake had never really done this before today, and he didn't anticipate his needs very well, it seems. 

"Last rule: _I may speak only when spoken to_. Repeat." 

"I may speak only when spoken to." 

Jake makes himself say the sentence slowly and precicely, just as instructed. He breathes a inaudible sigh of relief when he's finally gotten through all five repeats without stumbling over the words. 

"That was good, Peralta," Amy says, and Jake is sure that his delight at hearing her say that is written clearly on his face. 

Amy, wonderful, amazing, perfect as she is, notices immediately. 

"Do you like it when I compliment you, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

"Do you like it when I say you're doing good?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

Jake's voice sounds almost desperate, and Jake is pretty sure he just discovered a whole new kink for himself. 

"You will have to earn it. Do you want to earn my approval, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

"Will you follow my rules?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

"Well, that is a start." 

Amy leaves a pause again, and suddenly, Jake is glad that they didn't agree on specific sentences beforehand. He likes not knowing what comes next. At least he was right about that. 

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Peralta. I think you have potential. But I cannot ignore your past conduct as an officer of the NYPD. Did you honestly think your incompetence would go unpunished?" 

"No, sergeant." 

"You are an embarrassment," Amy says, and there is that disdainful tone again that makes Jake's spine tingle and his head feel strangely floaty. "You are by far the worst cop in the history of the NYPD. What do you have to say for yourself?" 

"I'm sorry, sergeant." 

"Is that the best you can do? You are pathetic." 

Jake's cock is straining against the restricting fabric of his pants, almost painfully so. 

"Do you even want me to forgive you?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

Jake can almost physically feel Amy looking him up and down. 

"In that case, I suggest you beg for my forgiveness. On your knees, Peralta." 

Jake obeys, resisting the urge to look up at Amy once he's in position. She has to look amazing, standing above him, in complete control. But he wants to be good for her, no matter how difficult that is. 

"Do you know how to beg?" 

"No, sergeant." 

Amy sighs audibly in disappointment, and the sounds flows through Jake's entire body like warmth. 

"You really are pathetic, Peralta. I can't believe I'm wasting my time on you." 

She pauses again, lets her words sink in as shivers run down his spine, and Jake hopes she will tell him more: tell him how much of a pathetic disgrace he truly is. 

"I want you to say the following sentence ten times. Nice and slow, like we practiced. _Sergeant, I humbly beg your forgiveness, even though I do not deserve it_." 

Oh, but this is also good, Jake thinks, she always knows what's good for him. 

"Sergeant, I humbly beg your forgiveness, even though I do not deserve it." 

It feels right, saying the words, just so right following her instructions. 

"Sergeant, I humbly beg your forgiveness, even though I do not deserve it." 

The most difficult thing is keeping count. Jake just wants to say the words over and over, but counting forces him to think, to realise what he's saying every single time. It feels like a long time before he reaches ten, a long time that is both excruciating and wonderful. 

The last one is harder than the others, his mouth feels dry, and his concentration is waning. But thankfully, he gets through the sentence somehow, he doesn't want to disappoint his sergeant any more than he already has. 

"That was very good, Peralta," the sergeant says, and Jake can feel the smile on his lips. He couldn't stop smiling even if she ordered him to. "As a reward, you are allowed to look up at me for ten seconds, starting now." 

Jake looks up at her, and she is so incredibly beautiful, standing there in full uniform, the sight of her in command over him even better than he imagined. 

"I love you, Ames." 

The words are out of Jake's mouth before he can stop himself. Amy's expression softens once more, and there is a faint blush in her cheeks. 

"It's sergeant," she says gently, and damn, if that isn't the hottest, best thing Jake has ever heard. 

"I love you, sergeant." 

She leans down to kiss the top of his head, ruffling his hair with one hand. 

"You want to continue?" 

Jake looks up at her, and he loves her so much that his heart must surely burst, he trusts her completely, like he has never trusted anyone else. 

"God, yes. Please! Please, sergeant." 

"In that case, the ten seconds are up." 

Her voice is still gentler than before, but she's getting back into character quickly. Jake looks down again, already ashamed that he broke one of the rules. 

"What is the fourth rule, Peralta?" 

"I may speak only when spoken to." 

"And did you follow this rule like I instructed?" 

Embarrassment runs through his veins, making Jake cringe. He wishes he didn't have to answer this question. 

"No, sergeant." 

The sergeant sighs. 

"And you were doing so well. I really did think you had potential." 

Jake wants to cry out, wants to beg her to forgive him again, no matter how many times he has to repeat the same sentence, but he stays silent. He's determined not to break the rules again. 

"You must be punished for your insolence. You will stay where you are, you will not make a sound, you will not move. I am going to go to the other side of the room, sit down and watch you until I am certain that you have learned your lesson." 

Jake can't think of a crueler punishment. Her steps are muffled by the carpet as she leaves, and he thinks he can hear the chair creak when she sits down. Then, the room is silent. The silence is terrible. The silence stretches out, pushing into his ears, almost physically hurting him. Jake does what he can not to move, he knows that she is watching him, that she is expecting him to be on his best behaviour. His knees start to protest. Kneeling before his sergeant is a blessing, but just kneeling in the middle of a room is agony. The worst thing is that he doesn't know how long she will be gone. He counts the seconds in his mind, eyes stubbornly trained on a cabinet on the far side of the room. He mustn't move. Jake knows he deserves punishment for speaking without permission, but he wishes his sergeant would come back to him, please let her come back. 

He can hear the chair creaking again when he's counted up to 231. Not even four minutes, but it feels like a lifetime. 

Jake breathes a sigh of relief when she's standing in front of him again. 

"Did you learn your lesson, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

His voice is unexpectedly hoarse. Jake can hear the sergeant's sharp intake of breath. 

"Peralta," she begins, her voice gentler again, more like Amy. "Do you know what your safeword is?" 

Jake hadn't even thought for a moment about ending the scene, but Amy's concern for his well-being makes Jake smile and his heart beat fast. 

"Yes, sergeant," he says with confidence, wanting to reassure her that all is well, better than well, actually, so much better. 

"Do you know you can use it at any point, at any point at all?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

He can feel her nodding more than he can actually see it. 

"Good. Okay." 

The no talking rule is very hard to follow. Jake wants to tell her that she really doesn't need to worry, that she makes him feel amazing, that he definitely wants to continue doing this. Well, he supposes he just did, in a very non-Jake way. Which is also kind of the point of all this. 

"While you were sitting there pondering your impertinence, I did think of something you could do to show me that you really deserve another chance. You do want me to give you a second chance, don't you, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant. Please." 

She runs a hand through his hair, but the movement different from before. This is more controlling, more possessive. Jake tries not to lean into her touch, but he's not sure he manages to avoid it altogether. 

"Get up on your feet." 

Jake follows her command, stands up straight, but keeps his head bowed. Amy walks to the edge of the bed and sits down leisurely. 

"Since you're obviously unable to put that brain of yours to good use, let's start with your body." 

Jake's cock is straining against his pants. He bites his lower lip in anticipation. 

"Take off your clothes. _Slowly_. Fold them up neatly." 

Jake can't help but smile softly. That is such an Amy thing to say, and he loves her for it. 

He starts with his jacket and works his way through various pieces of his uniform from there while Amy watches. Jake feels both wonderfully powerless and strangely powerful as he follows her order, aware of the sergeant's eyes on him even though he's not allowed to actually look at her face. But he does see that Amy starts touching herself, way before he's even close to being fully undressed. Her fingers are circling her clit through the fabric of her pants. For a moment, Jake's not sure if he's supposed to follow suit, but before he can, the sergeant starts speaking. 

"You are not allowed to touch yourself. I will decide what kind of pleasure you have, and when. What are the rules?" 

Speaking slowly is not all that easy right now, but Jake forces himself to say every word clearly. It's what his sergeant wants him to do. 

"I am under your command, I follow your orders. I am not allowed to do anything without your express permission. I may look at your face only when you say so. I may speak only when spoken to." 

"Very good, Peralta." 

Jake believes the word for the sound he makes is _purring_. Oh, he wants to be good for her, he wants to do everything just right for her. 

He folds up his shirt, _neatly_ , just like she instructed, and Amy makes an appreciative sound. 

"Well, wasn't I right? You may yet have potential, Peralta. Carry on." 

Jake can see her fingers move more quickly, and he hopes with all his heart that she will allow him to touch her, to bring her to completion. 

"Is there something you want to say, Peralta?" 

There's a whole lot Jake wants to say, but he makes himself focus on the most important point. 

"Sergeant, might I be allowed to pleasure you?" 

Jake is shocked at how formal he sounds, but then decides that it fits the tone of the scene. Amy doesn't seem to mind his choice of words, and that's what matters. 

"You think you're worthy of pleasuring _me_? You're presumptuous, Peralta." 

That wasn't a denial. Jake bites his lip as he folds up his pants carefully, hoping that she'll give him permission. Amy doesn't say anything else, though, and he's not allowed to see her facial expressions. Jake takes off his shorts and folds them up. Then, he stands nude before Amy, and now he truly feels that he's at her mercy, that she is in control, and that feeling makes his skin tingle and his heart beat fast. Jake smiles, he feels so wonderful. 

"So, you think I should allow you to touch me, Peralta?" 

"Yes, please, sergeant." 

Amy clicks her tongue. 

"Arrogance doesn't become you. Let's practice asking respectfully, shall we? Kneel down in front of me." 

Jake follows her order as quickly as he can, smile widening. She intends to say yes, and she'll make him work for it. 

"You should be on your knees every time you request something from me. That's where you belong, isn't it, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant." 

Amy has stopped touching herself, now she sits on the bed with both hands behind her to support her weight as she leans back. Jake makes himself look down to avoid accidentally looking at her face. 

"So, you want to touch me like we're equals? Is that it?" 

Jake shakes his head. 

"No, sergeant." 

"What _did_ you have in mind, then?" 

Jake takes a shaky breath. He had hoped for her to give him lines to repeat again, but apparently, Amy wants to make it a bit more challenging this time. 

"I want to serve you, sergeant. I'll do anything you want, exactly the way you say. I know I'm not worthy of touching you, but if there's anything I can do to enhance your pleasure I want to do it. Please let me be of service to you. Forgive me for being so forward. I know I don't deserve any kindness from you, but please allow me to touch you, sergeant." 

"Not bad, Peralta. Not bad." 

Amy leaves a pause, longer than strictly necessary. Jake's spine is tingling, hoping that she'll give him permission soon, he wants to touch her so badly. 

"Let's see what you can do. Stay on your knees. Help me out of my pants." 

Jake breathes a sigh of relief, smiling. It doesn't take long for him to divest her of the garment, he's done this quite a few times, after all. He folds up her pants, positive that that's what Amy wants him to do. 

"Very good, Peralta," she says, and Jake's smile widens again as butterflies take flight in his stomach. "Panties next." 

Jake slides her panties down her legs, extremely glad that her face is the only body part he's not allowed to look at. He puts her underwear down on top of her pants, and Amy spreads her legs. She's so incredibly beautiful. Jake remembers that she hasn't actually given him permission to touch her yet, and makes himself sit still. 

"You're not allowed to use your hands, keep them behind your back." 

Jake hurries to comply. 

"Make me come, Peralta." 

These are the words he's been waiting for. A pleasant shiver runs through Jake's whole body, making him smile even more widely. 

"Yes, sergeant." 

He leans forward to kiss her, starting at her hip and working his way down from there. Amy lies down on her back to give him better access, and she groans when he drags his tongue over the slick folds of her cunt. Jake marvels at how wet she already is, how well she was hiding her arousal while talking to him. 

Jake knows exactly what she likes him to do with his mouth, how she needs to be touched. He starts slowly, eliciting little moans from Amy. Jake closes his eyes and concentrates on the sounds she makes, the taste of her, the way he breathes in her scent with every breath he takes. Jake wants to run his hands over her thighs, wants to hold onto her butt, but he manages to resist the urge. It's weird, not using his hands at all, but in a good way, in a way that reminds him that Amy is in charge right now, that he is under her command, that she is his sergeant. Jake sucks on her clit, and Amy groans, deep in her throat, such a beautiful sound. She's close now, Jake can tell. 

"You're doing so well," Amy says breathlessly. "Such a good boy." 

Jake's already hard, but that sentence makes his cock twitch forcefully. He has to tell Amy to use that line more often. 

Amy is gorgeous when she's close, and even though he can't see her expressions, Jake knows her well enough to picture what he can't see: the way she scrunches up her nose every time his tongue caresses her clit, how her eyelids are drooping even though she always tries to keep her eyes open. Jake can hear her gasping for air desperately, low moans escaping her throat. 

"Peralta," she groans, and Jake thinks his last name has never sounded sexier. 

He redoubles his efforts, and a few moments later, he is rewarded with a cry from Amy, her body shaking around him. Jake wants to hold her, but he's not allowed, and so he just keeps kissing her through her orgasm, wants to cherish every second of being this close to her. Amy sighs contentedly, and runs one of her hands through his hair. They stay like that for a while, Jake placing soft kisses on her thighs, and Amy caressing him. Then, she pushes Jake's head away gently and sits up, stretching her arms. 

"That was very good. You should be rewarded." 

Jake can't help but smile. This is it, this is it. He makes himself sit very still, he can't mess it up now. 

"On one condition. Look into my eyes and tell me _exactly_ what you want." 

Jake looks up at her. Amy's face is still flushed from orgasm, she's so beautiful. Of course, Amy already knows what Jake wants, they talked about it beforehand after all, but kneeling in front of her, vulnerable, at her mercy, forced to spell it out, is _amazing_. 

"I want you to wear a strap-on and fuck me, doggy-stylez." 

He can see her biting back a grin at his choice of words. 

"Well, well, Peralta. What dirty fantasies you have." She leaves a pause, like she's considering it. "Say please." 

"Please, sergeant." 

"Please what?" 

"Please fuck me, sergeant." 

Amy's expression is neutral like she doesn't care about Jake at all. Jake's body is trembling, he bites his lip hard so he doesn't accidentally tell her that what she's doing is perfect, that she plays her character wonderfully, that this is exactly what he was hoping for. 

"Fetch me a glass of water first. No running." 

She nods in the direction of their kitchen. 

"Yes, sergeant." 

Their apartment seems to have grown much bigger over the course of the last half hour. Amy was absolutely right in assuming that without her added instruction, Jake would run to the kitchen as fast as possible, probably spilling half the water on his way back. Does the way from the bedroom to the kitchen always take this long? What is it with Amy and her need to drink water at regular intervals, anyway? Jake shakes his head, smiling. She's so weird. God, he loves her so much. 

When Jake _finally_ comes back into the bedroom, Amy is standing next to the bed, strap-on in place. The sight is so delicious that for a moment, Jake entirely forgets everything else. They bought it together but he's never actually seen her wear it before. He realises his mouth is standing open, and he closes it. 

"You like what you see, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant," Jake breathes. His voice is hoarse again. 

Amy's _still_ wearing the top half of her uniform, and it's absolutely perfect. Jake can't believe he's lucky enough to have her in his life, can't believe he's actually engaged to someone so amazing. 

"While your admiration is flattering, I believe I gave you a task, Peralta?" 

"Oh, right. Please forgive me, sergeant." 

Jake goes over to her and hands her the glass of water. Amy takes a sip, slowly. If she's trying to torture him, it's definitely working. 

"Get on the bed," she commands. "On your hands and knees." 

"Yes, sergeant," Jake says, and he's never been happier to obey a command in his life. 

He can hear her put down the glass of water on the nightstand, can hear the tub of lube sliding across the wooden surface as she picks it up lazily, can feel her weight behind him when she joins him on the bed. 

"Keep still," the sergeant orders, and Jake nods, knowing that this command will be a hard one to follow. Amy isn't making it easy on him, and that's exactly what Jake wants. 

Her hand is almost cool against Jake's hot skin, her movements are gentle but firm. Amy's fingers trace the lines of his back, starting at his shoulders and going down from there. The anticipation is making Jake restless, leaning into her touch before he can stop himself, he wants her so much closer. 

"No discipline," Amy chides, taking her hand off him, making Jake whimper at the loss of contact. "I told you not to move, didn't I, Peralta?" 

"Yes, sergeant," he gasps. 

"You only get what you want if you follow my orders. Is that understood?" 

"Yes, sergeant. I'm sorry, sergeant, I'll be good!" 

She starts again, running her fingertips over his back, teasing him, and it takes all of Jake's willpower to withstand the urge to move. Finally, Amy has reached one of his buttocks, and Jake whimpers when she traces its outline once and then takes her hand off him again. 

"Beg for it," she whispers into his ear, and Jake's whole body shivers. 

"Please, sergeant," he says desperately, "please, please, _please_ fuck me, I need it so much, please have mercy on me, please, I need you inside me, please don't make me wait any longer!" 

Jake's rambling is brought to an end when he can feel her fingers where he wants them most, the lube cool against his hot skin. 

"Very good," the sergeant says. "You're gorgeous when you're begging like that." 

One of her fingers slides inside him; the sensation is intimate, but in a good way, he trusts Amy. She takes her time preparing him, adding more and more fingers until Jake feels open in a way he never has before. 

"You ready?" 

"Yes, sergeant," Jake breathes. 

She withdraws her fingers and lines herself up, then slowly pushes into Jake. A moan escapes Jake's mouth, the feeling is exquisite. He makes himself relax against the unfamiliar intrusion, until Amy is buried inside him completely. Jake realises he's been holding his breath and forces himself to breathe. 

"You're allowed to move your arms if your position gets uncomfortable," Amy instructs. "And you have permission to speak if necessary." 

Amy knows he would probably accidentally bite off his tongue at some point if he wasn't allowed to speak during sex. 

"Thank you, sergeant," Jake sighs, and then Amy starts to fuck him. 

Her hands are on his hips, holding him steady, and Jake leans forward on his elbows to give her better access. The sensation feels weird at first, but also _so good_. It doesn't take them long to find a rhythm. 

"More," Jake moans, "please." 

Amy adjusts her position a little, and with her next stroke she touches a point inside of Jake that sets his whole body aflame as he groans. 

"Right there," Jake pleads somewhat unnecessarily. Surely, Amy couldn't have missed that reaction. Jake is past the point of caring. 

Sure enough, Amy works his prostate with every one of her strokes now, and Jake is rambling again, but he isn't sure what he's saying. It must be _Yes_ and _God_ and _Amy_ and _I love you_ , but there really is no way to know. 

"Come," she orders. "Come for me, Peralta." 

And Jake does come, his whole body shaking, he can see stars. 

Amy slows her movements, slides out of him carefully, and Jake collapses on the bed, unable to move a single muscle. His head is spinning. The world seems strangely out of focus. 

He thinks he can hear Amy open the fastenings of the strap-on, but maybe he's just imagening it. But it's definitely her hand on his face, her hand that is running through his hair, her hand that pulls him closer until Jake's back is pressed against Amy's chest. 

"You did so well," Amy says quietly, "I'm proud of you, Peralta." 

Jake snuggles up to her as much as he can, and she closes her arms around him. Jake feels so safe with her behind him; he's always loved being the little spoon, but lying in Amy's arms is so much more comfortable than anyone else's. Amy's skin is warm and soft against his, and he can feel her breath on his neck. 

"Everything okay?" 

She asks gently, with her regular Amy-voice, and Jake nods, still feeling like he's floating. 

"You want to stay like this?" 

He nods again, and she pulls him closer, settling her head against his shoulders. 

"You were brilliant," Amy whispers. "Really wonderful." 

Jake realises he's smiling. He's been smiling so much his cheeks are smarting. 

He wants to say that she's been perfect, that she makes him feel so good, that he wants to do this again, please, that he's so glad he's going to marry her. Jake doesn't think he can say it right now, his brain's not quite working maybe, but he will tell her as soon as he's able. 

"I love you," that's all he can say in this moment, "so much." 

He might have slurred the words a bit, but Amy understands. 

"I love you so much, too."


End file.
